


Touch

by dnceracha



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bang Chan is a Sweetheart, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25196305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dnceracha/pseuds/dnceracha
Summary: Maybe what you had been looking for was right in front of you all along. But what would it take to realize that?
Relationships: Bang Chan/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 59





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> The actions in this could be considered an emotional affair. This is also posted on my Tumblr account, which is dnceracha.

As you trudged through the thin film of snow on the sidewalk, all you could think was that it’s way too late to be out and wandering around – or maybe way too early, actually. But this was when it was easiest to meet with him.

It was nearly four o’clock in the morning, and if you knew him as well as you were certain you did, you knew he would’ve given up on his music about an hour ago. Although he’d still be in his studio, he’d be browsing the web, eating whatever food he could get his hands on, or playing a mind-numbing game on his phone.

You let yourself into the building. Chan had given you the key-code many moons ago, not long after you had met him. He never minded having you in the studio; although you could be quite chatty, he had once admitted your presence often helped him express his emotions through his music. It was because you came around so often that he eventually got tired of going to let you in. It was easier to just give you the code and hope you didn’t sell it to Dispatch. (Thankfully, you hadn’t.) 

You weren’t sure if his manager knew you knew it or not, but you weren’t about to be the one to tell him. You’d save yourself and Chan the lecture.

When you entered his studio, he looked up at you.

“Jesus, you’re shivering,” he said. “Don’t you ever wear a coat?”

You shrugged, throwing your purse down on the floor and walking over to one of the beanbag chairs in the corner. You flung yourself onto it before speaking. “You know I wear coats. I just left my apartment too quickly,” you said.

He rose from the chair next to his computer and pulled his coat off the back of it, haphazardly throwing it in her direction as he made his way to the beanbag chair next to you and sat down. You knew these chairs were here for Changbin and Jisung, and you were positive you’d get grief later about one of them smelling like you, which was a long-running joke between you and Jisung. You’d worry about that later. For the time being, you gratefully slipped Chan’s coat on, feeling comforted by how much it smelled like him.

“Left your apartment too quickly?” Chan asked, raising his eyebrow. “You missed me that much? Cute.”

“Whatever,” you said, glancing away from him. “Welcome home, anyway.” 

It had been a week since you had last seen your friend, and admittedly, you had missed him. You’d be damned if you would tell him that, though. 

“Thanks,” he said. “Can’t believe I get a whole two weeks off! What am I supposed to do with all this time?” 

You laughed. “Work,” you said. “That’s all you ever do, isn’t it? That’s what you’re doing now.”

Chan hummed, tapping his fingers against his thigh. “I do other things,” he said. “Sleep, eat. Okay, maybe not sleep. But all that regular human stuff. Not like you’re one to talk, though. Regular humans wear coats when it’s snowing outside.”

“It ruins my aesthetic,” you responded, rolling your head to the side to look at him. 

Maybe it was finally fully seeing your eyes for the first time that night – they had previously been hidden by the dim lighting – or maybe it was just how tired you sounded, but he quickly caught on that something was wrong. 

“Something we should talk about?” he asked you, leaning further to his left so that he was closer to you. 

You shook your head.

“You sure?” he asked. “You look like shit.”

Your jaw dropped, and you reached over and whacked him several times with the sleeves of his own jacket. “Don’t be rude!” you whined. “I’m trying, okay? Sorry I don’t look like a model at four in the morning. Not all of us have the beauty of Christopher Bang.” 

He laughed and grabbed the sleeves of the jacket, pulling you closer to him and wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. He felt you stiffen momentarily before you hugged him back, a happy sigh falling from your lips. 

“You look fine,” he said. “Missed you, (y/n).”

“I missed you a lot, too,” you said, pulling yourself from your thoughts. “I missed you so much. Enough to run here without a coat, apparently.”

He pulled away from you just slightly, enough so that he could look at you. He could tell you were holding something back from him; he knew you well enough to know when you weren’t telling the full story. It had happened several times, including the time you broke his MacBook, making him beyond thankful he had backed up his many projects to an external hard drive. 

“My life’s so boring when you’re not here,” you continued, falling back into your seat.

Despite his feelings, Chan laughed. “I call bullshit,” he said. “You work in fashion and get to do so many exciting things. And you have Sooyoung, you have Zuko, your boyfriend.”

Sooyoung was one of your closest friends, and she had been since you had moved into your apartment. She lived in the apartment above you, and you had initially met in the elevator of your building. Zuko was your dog, a little black ball of fluff, as Chan affectionately referred to him. And, yes, he was named after the Avatar character. Your boyfriend, though – you couldn’t help but cringe when Chan mentioned him.

“So that’s what’s wrong,” he said, knowingly nodding. “Something happened between you and him.” 

You stared at him skeptically. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him; it was more complicated than that.

“Spill, Sweetheart,” he said, firmly.

You laughed. “I shouldn’t,” you said. “It’s not right for me to talk to someone about what’s going on with us.”

It was his turn to scoff. “Right,” he said. “Weren’t you the one who encouraged me to talk about my problems with my ex? I believe you said something like ‘Channie, we’re friends! Friends support each other! It’s not good to bottle everything up! You have to talk through relationship problems to figure them out!’ Sound familiar?”

You could feel your cheeks heating up, but you were unsure if it was from a tiny bit of annoyance or from being embarrassed by his spot-on imitation of you. How could he 1) remember that but 2) get his voice like that? You remained silent for several minutes, hearing the clock ticking in the background. You stole a few glances at Chan, finding that his eyes were still trained on you. The combination was too much to handle, and you caved within minutes of your previous refusal. 

“I think I’m going to break up with him,” you said, your usually strong tone coming out as a whimper. You hated it.

Chan tilted his head slightly as he looked at you. “Why?” he asked. 

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair as you stood up. You were starting to feel a bit smothered by the beanbag chair contouring around you. Chan didn’t outwardly react, but he quickly looked you up and down and stifled a laugh at how his jacket hung from your frame. 

“He bores me,” you said. “It’s like – it’s like he doesn’t put effort into this, into us anymore.”

Chan nodded to show he was still listening. 

“I mean, I’m not high maintenance. I’m really not, and you know I’m not! But it’s like, pick up a phone for once. Shoot me a text to tell me you’re thinking of me. Ask how my day’s going. Plan a date. Do something! I feel like I’m the only one trying here, you know?” you said, clenching your jaw in frustration and hoping he would understood what you meant.

“Have you talked to him about it?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, of course I have. You know I have no qualms talking about when I feel slighted,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood and making Chan crack a small smile in the process. “And he just tells me he does put in effort and that I should know how much he loves me.”

“But you don’t feel loved?” Chan asked. 

You stopped jittering and looked at him, and although you weren’t crying, he could still see how upset you were. “No,” you said. “I don’t know. Some days I feel like he does love me, but maybe he just doesn’t know how to show it. Maybe our love languages are too different. I’m not even sure if he has a love language with me. Maybe we just aren’t compatible.” Now feeling too vulnerable standing over him, you took a seat on his office chair and spun it around to face him. You leaned forward, resting your elbow on your knee and your chin in your hand.

Chan bobbed his head back and forth in thought. “And you said you’ve talked to him about this? Like, all of this, not just the generic ‘put in more effort’ right? Like, you’ve told him this is putting a strain on your relationship?” he asked. 

You nodded.

“Dump him,” Chan said. “You can do better.”

“I know,” you whispered. It was something you had known, but finally speaking it into existence felt strange. It burned at the back of your throat. “I should get home, Chan. It’s late – actually, it’s early. I have a really busy day tomorrow.”

You stood up, and he quickly did the same, jumping up to stand in front of you. 

He offered to walk you home, but you declined. You said that the walk would give you time to think over things some more. Chan understood, of course, but he did ask for you to text him when you got home. He wanted you to be safe.

“I’m glad you’re home,” you said, although the last word became muffled as he pulled you into a hug and your face was buried in his neck. 

You stayed that way for several moments before finally separating.

“Oh, your jacket,” you said, getting ready to pull it off.

Chan stopped you. “Wear it home,” he said. “It’s cold out, (y/n). Don’t need you getting sick, even if it does ruin your aesthetic.”

You pulled it tighter around you, nodding a thank you before picking up your purse and leaving the room without anything else being said. 

The silence was deafening.

It had been three days since Chan had last heard from you, and that didn’t sit well with him. When he was home, you were usually never too far away. If you weren’t at the dorm hanging out with him and his members or killing time in his studio while he worked, you were at least texting him. 

This time, though? Nothing.

He had texted you a few times to no avail, and according to iMessage, you weren’t even reading his messages. Something was definitely up. Were you mad at him? Had he overstepped during your last conversation by suggesting you break up with your boyfriend? 

Chan tried another route before panicking. He had Jisung text you, knowing that the two of you talked frequently. If it had just been a case of him making you mad, you’d at least answer Jisung.  
But you didn’t. You didn’t read the messages from him, either.

Chan’s last option was to go to your apartment. It wasn’t like it was weird for him to show up at your place late at night. He had a key, after all, and he had shown up late plenty of times, bringing over junk food and terrible movies for the two of you to watch. Those nights usually ended with the two of you sprawled out on the plush carpet of your living room, talking about anything and everything under the sun.

As he entered the apartment, he gently hung his keys on the rack next to the door. When he leaned down to slip off his shoes, he was greeted by Zuko running into the room. Chan smiled as the dog came closer, happily wagging his tail.

“Hey, Zuko,” he said. “Where’s your mum, huh? Why aren’t you curled up in bed with her?”

“Because I’m not in bed,” you said, leaning against the entryway. “What are you doing here, Chan? It’s like three in the morning.”

Your hair was pulled back out of your face, and your cheeks were flushed; you had clearly been asleep, and Chan felt bad for waking you up. The feeling died down as he realized what you were wearing. Your legs were bare, with nothing but your underwear covering your lower half. A loose-fitting, red t-shirt covered your torso, but on top of that? His coat. 

He choked down the lump in his throat. “I hadn’t heard from you,” he said. “That’s not like you. I was worried.”

You shook your head, shrugging him off. “I’ve been busy. Work, Zuko, stuff with – yeah. That’s all,” you said.

“Are you okay?” he asked, taking off his own coat and throwing it over the back of the chair closest to the door. 

“Fine,” you said. “Just fine.”

He stared you down, squinting at you. His eyebrow rose in suspicion, and it was clear he knew you were lying. Something was bothering you. Chan didn’t like that you wouldn’t tell him what it was, but he knew that in all fairness, you were probably still half-asleep.

“Yeah? Cool,” he said. “Can we go chill in your bed? I’ve missed you, but you’re obviously tired.” 

You shrugged your shoulders, walking back up the hall towards your bedroom. Chan checked the lock on the door behind him before following after you, snapping his fingers for Zuko to follow. 

“You could’ve just left me alone, you know,” you said quietly, pulling the covers up over your body after settling in your bed.

Chan shook his head. “You hate being alone,” he pointed out. 

“That doesn’t mean I don’t need to be sometimes,” you said.

He crawled under the covers next to you adjusting the spare pillow under his head. He didn’t bother to turn off the bedside lamp just yet; it cast a small but warm glow over the room. “You shouldn’t just isolate yourself in your apartment after a breakup,” he said. “You should be around your friends.” 

You repositioned yourself so that you were on your side, propped up on your elbow to face him. “How do you know I broke up with him?” you asked. 

“Sooyoung told me,” he answered, honestly. “I had to chase her down since you wouldn’t answer my texts. Besides, not a single snarky ‘keep your hands to yourself, sir’ when I got in your bed.” 

And then, it was quiet. The two of you stayed in silence for a few minutes, neither of you sleeping; you were simply existing in the same place. But it was like Chan knew when the silence got too much for you, and he decided to scoot just a bit closer. That was all it took for you to close the space between you and curl up in his side. 

You didn’t speak immediately, but after what might have been three minutes, you groaned softly. “I think the worst part is that I don’t necessarily feel bad, you know? About breaking up with him, I mean. I feel bad for hurting him, yeah – he was really upset, even said some really bad things. But I don’t, like, miss him,” you said. 

With your head so close, he took the opportunity to run his fingers through your hair. “You weren’t happy with him, (y/n), so I guess that’s normal,” he said. 

“Doesn’t that make me a bad person, though?” you asked.

Chan laughed softly, shaking his head. “Nah, you’re only human,” he said.

You snarled, but there was no anger behind it. You also chuckled quietly. “You can say it, you know,” you said. “I know you want to.” 

“Say what?” Chan asked. 

“‘I told you so.’ I know you’re itching to say it,” you said, pulling away from him a bit so you could look up at him. You laughed louder when you saw his expression, which resembled a kid being caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “You never liked him.” 

“It’s not that I didn’t like him,” Chan said, quickly defending himself. “I just didn’t think he was good enough – didn’t think he was right for you. And you came to agree with me.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding as you returned to his side. “Will you stay with me?”

Chan hummed his agreement, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. 

“And don’t try to cook breakfast, idiot,” you warned. 

“Shut up,” he said. “Goodnight. Get some sleep.”

When you woke up the next morning, Chan was gone. There was a note on the pillow he had used the night before. 

“Gone to get breakfast, since you said I couldn’t cook. Took Zuko with me. Back in a bit,” it read.

You had just managed to brush your teeth and redo your hair when the buzzer to your door rang. You let out a sigh, tugging Chan’s jacket closer against you, making a mental note to turn the heat up a bit. As you approached the door, you laughed. “What, did you forget your key?” you asked. Upon opening the door, though, you were surprised to find Sooyoung standing there.

Your friend tilted her head, looking confused. “Considering I don’t have a key, no, I didn’t forget it,” she said. “You making a habit of answering the door like this? I gotta say, it’s a good look.” 

You felt your cheeks flush, but you brushed it off. “Shut up and get inside,” you said. “It’s freezing.”

Sooyoung stepped inside, slipping her coat off as you tinkered with the thermostat. “So, how you holding up?” she asked. She looked around your apartment as if she was looking for something she wasn’t sure was there. “Your apartment isn’t a wreck, so you’re still cleaning. I think that’s a good sign.” 

You shrugged your shoulders, sitting down on the couch while Sooyoung took the armchair. “I’m okay,” you said. “I never really felt too bad, just kind of ‘meh’ about the whole thing. And I feel kind of bad about feeling like that. That’s what I feel bad about, not ending the relationship.”

Your friend nodded. “That’s what I told Jisung I thought was going on,” she said. “Still, he was pretty upset you didn’t answer his text. Chan, too.”

You smirked. “You and Han dating yet?” you asked, playing with one of the strings on Chan’s coat. 

Sooyoung let out an exasperated groan, dramatically sinking into the chair she was seated in, making you laugh. “Why won’t he just ask me out?” Sooyoung said. “He’s such a twerp. Flirts his ass off but won’t do anything about it.” 

“You’re older than him. Maybe it intimidates him,” you said. “He likes you, so I wouldn’t worry about it. Why not just ask him out yourself?”

A key turning in the door cut Sooyoung off from replying, and when Chan stepped in and realized Sooyoung was there, none of you immediately said anything. Chan leaned down and unhooked Zuko’s leash. As the dog ran over to greet Sooyoung, she looked between the two of you before drawing her face into a knowing expression. 

“That’s who you were expecting,” Sooyoung said. “That’s why you asked if I had forgotten my key. You thought I was Chan. Wait, why does he have a key, but I don’t? Rude.”

Chan laughed, finally shutting the door behind him. “Hey, Sooyoung,” he said. “Didn’t know you’d be here, or I’d have gotten you breakfast.” 

Sooyoung looked over at him before looking back at you again. “He spent the night here. He got you breakfast!” she said, talking as if Chan couldn’t hear her.

You shook your head. “He just said he would’ve got you breakfast,” you said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“But he did stay here!” she proclaimed, looking over at Chan. “You totally stayed here last night, right? What’d you two do?”

Chan raised an eyebrow as he took a seat on the couch, handing you one of the bags he was holding. “I don’t know,” he said. “What do you and Jisung do when he stays at your apartment? Or you stay at the dorm?” He was proud of himself for getting Sooyoung to quiet down, not wanting you to feel awkward about the night before. 

Sooyoung opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. He had called her bluff, and you all knew it.

Chan winked at her. “He’s been whining the past couple of days, you know. You two should probably just make it official,” he said.

You nodded. “That’s what we were talking about when you got here,” you said. “I told her she should just ask him out. I think she was about to agree to it, too.” 

“He’d probably like that, to be honest,” Chan said. “You know how he is – he can be shy sometimes, especially with girls. Except with flirting. He’s a shameless flirt.” 

“Hey!” Sooyoung yelled, shaking her head. “Don’t turn this on me and Jisungie! This is about you two.”

You pulled your pastry in half and held part of it out to Sooyoung, who took it. In turn, Chan offered you part of his, but you told him to eat it himself. You always worried he worked himself too much and ate too little. The conversation made a quick turn to Zuko, and the three of you chatted away while eating. 

Jisung walked into Chan’s studio, not bothering to knock. “Hyung,” Jisung said. “Where were you last night? And the night before?”

Chan spun around in his chair to face Jisung, who had just plopped down on one of the beanbag chairs. 

“This smells like (y/n),” he said. “Gross. Anyway, yes, where?”

“With her,” Chan answered, knowing Jisung wasn’t being intrusive, just curious. He paused. “Actually, Jisung, can I get your opinion on something?”

“Yeah,” Jisung said. “Only if I get to ask you for advice.”

“Always something with you,” Chan teased. “You first.”

Jisung let out a breath, and Chan knew he was trying to choose his words carefully. “Do you think Sooyoung Noona likes me? I – I want to ask her on a date, but I’m worried she’ll say no,” Jisung said. “I guess I’m afraid to ruin everything.” 

Chan smiled. “I think you should go for it,” he said. “I’m confident she feels the same way, from some of the things she’s said and from what (y/n)’s told me. You two will be so cute. Jisungie’s growing up.” 

Jisung was so excited that he ignored the teasing. His eyes lit up. “She talks about me? You and (y/n) talk about us?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Chan answered, nodding. “We talk about everything. But in this case, just that we think you’d be cute together, and I’m pretty sure she’s told (y/n) she wishes you’d ask her out, but uh, you didn’t hear that from me, okay?” 

“Thanks, Hyung,” Jisung said. “Anyway, what did you want to ask?”

Chan cleared his throat, taking off his cap and running his fingers through his hair before putting the cap back on. “Do you think (y/n) and I would – Do you think we could be a good couple?” he asked.  
Jisung could see the rant coming from a mile away, so he just waited for Chan to continue.

“I don’t know, I just – when I went to her house the other night, I showed up at like three in the morning, and she had been sleeping in just a t-shirt and my coat. She slept curled up next to me the whole night, same thing last night. And I’ve – you know I’ve been into her for a while, it’s not a secret. But now she’s finally got rid of him, and I want to ask her, but I don’t want to hurt her, ruin our friendship, or be a rebound,” he said, rapidly tapping his fingers against the armrest. 

Jisung thought over what Chan said, not answering immediately. “You know, Hyung, I think you should do it,” he said, softly. “I’ve always wondered if there was something more there. And the thing about (y/n) Noona is that – I guess even if she doesn’t feel the same way, I don’t think she’d end a friendship over it. You guys are best friends.” 

Chan smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess so,” he said. “Yeah, I’ll try to talk to her about it. Can’t hurt to mention it.” 

“You staying there again tonight?” Jisung asked. 

Yes, Chan told him, assuming everything went well. If not, he’d come back to the dorm with his tail tucked between his legs. Jisung reassured him that if that happened, he’d be waiting with ramen and video games. 

But Jisung was confident that wouldn’t be necessary.

When Chan got done working in his studio, he ran by the dorms to see everyone and pick up a couple of things – mainly, more clothes. After checking in with each of the boys and talking to them briefly, he headed over to your apartment. He found you standing in front of your bedroom mirror, alternating between two dresses, holding them up in front of you.

“Whatcha doin?” he asked you, coming into the room and flopping down on your bed. He was you curiously, his head tilted. 

“Trying to figure out what the hell I want to wear to work tomorrow. I thought I wanted to wear a dress, but I don’t love either of these,” you said, then turned around to face him. “You’re not quite as fashionable as Hyunjin, but what do you think?”

Chan rolled his eyes at her remark but looked between the two dresses anyway. “The flower one is really pretty,” he said. “But blue looks really pretty on you. But if you don’t feel either of them, just pick something else.” 

He hopped off your bed and walked over to your closet, flicking through what was hanging up. When he came across one of his hoodies, he smiled. When he came across one of his shirts a few items later, he paused and glanced over at you. You were still looking in the mirror, clearly picking apart something. Whether it was the outfits or yourself, he wasn’t sure.

“You’re staring,” you said. 

You caught him off guard; he thought you had been so focused on yourself that you wouldn’t notice. 

“You – sorry,” he said. “What about this?”

You looked over to what he was holding. It was a longer wool coat, black with three thick stripes around the torso; they were blue. You looked at it closely and realized you hadn’t thought about the coat in a long time. 

“Maybe over a grey sweater, like this one that’s conveniently mine, and some black jeans, boots? Or maybe those school shoes, uh, Oxfords,” he mused. He was now holding up the sweater in front of the jacket, and you had to admit it was a good look.

“You know what? I like that, actually. Let’s go with that,” you said, rather quickly.

Chan hung the two pieces of clothing up on your exterior clothes rack, where he knew you always put the next day’s outfit. 

You hung the two dresses back up in your closet before shutting the doors and going to pull a pair of jeans from your dresser. As you hung them up alongside the coat and sweater, you talked to him. 

“Did you eat?” you asked. “I left you some takeout in the fridge. Should I heat it up for you?” 

You began to walk out of the room to go to the kitchen, but Chan reached out and cost your wrist, making you turn back to look at him. “Slow down, (y/n),” he said, laughing gently. “Just slow down. I’m teasing you about the sweater. I don’t mind.”

“No,” you said. “Yeah, no, I know. I just – it’s like nine o’clock, Chan. You need to eat, you know, and I don’t mind heating it up for you. You spent all day in the studio.” 

He listened to you patiently, resisting the urge to cut you off. “(Y/n),” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “We need to talk.”

You recoiled at his words, pulling your hand from his loose grip. “About what?” you asked. Despite your reaction, your words came out sounding strong, defensive.

“Come sit with me,” he said. “Please?”

You hesitated but followed him down the hall to your living room. Chan sat down on the couch, and you joined him. It wasn’t that you felt guilty of anything; you knew you hadn’t done anything wrong. But the words “we need to talk” sent a chill down your spine. The words “we need to talk” were never used for anything good. You would know; you had just used them on your ex.

“Sweetheart, please breathe,” he said, smiling gently. “This isn’t bad, I promise. I don’t think so, anyway. It might even be good.”

You tilted your head, imagining you looked a lot like a kicked puppy.

“I, uh, I had a thought,” Chan said, taking off his hat and throwing it on the coffee table. “And I guess I’ve been having these thoughts for a bit, and I just – (Y/n), what’s going on with us?”

“What do you mean?” you asked. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you swore the room was getting smaller. Why were you so anxious? This was Chan; you had always felt so comfortable with him. 

“I’ve been here for days,” he said, tilting his own head. “We’re sleeping all cuddled up. You’re fixing me dinner, and I think you might have as many of my clothes in your closet as there are in mine.”   
You looked down at your lap, but Chan tutted at you and asked you to keep your head up. When you did look back up, he smiled and nodded, encouraging you to just say what was on your mind. 

“I – I just like you being here,” you said. “Give me a second.” 

You quickly stood up from the couch and walked down the hall to your bathroom, shutting the door behind you. Reaching to turn on the light, you took a deep breath and shook your hands to fan your face as you tried to gather your composure. You knew you had to pull it together. A million thoughts were running through your mind, and you did your best to sort through them. You focused on Chan’s tone when he confronted you. He was gentle, non-judgmental. Happy, even. There was a natural curiousness to his voice, as if he wanted to be let in on a secret.

But the sparkle in his eyes told you he already knew that secret.

You took a final deep breath before walking back up the hall, taking your seat in front of Chan once more. 

“Ready to try again?” he joked.

“Shut up,” you answered. “Look, I – When I left your studio that night, I cried the whole way home because I realized that when we were talking, I was talking about what I wanted in a relationship. Ambition. Caring. Effort! And right before I left, it hit me.” 

You let out a shaky breath, but you continued.

“And when I broke up with him, it all came out.”

“What came out?” Chan asked.

“That I already had everything I wanted with someone else, even if we weren’t together. Someone who understands me, someone who makes an effort to see me even though he’s off being a worldwide superstar, someone chasing his dream and still making me part of it. Someone I always know where I stand with,” you said. “And I know you’re probably worried this is a rebound for me, but it’s not. I swear it’s not. I’ve felt this way for so long, and I know that’s wrong. But when you offered to stay, I got selfish and wanted you to stay longer.”

Chan reached out, affectionately tugging at a strand of your hair. “Is it my turn to talk now?” he asked.

You laughed, reaching up to wipe away a tear that was welling up. “Sorry,” you said, telling him to go ahead.

“Why do you think I do all those things, huh? Why do you think I make such an effort to keep in touch with you, to shoot you a text even if it’s just to tell you I’m sorry I can’t talk, and I hope you have a good night? Why do you think I’ve curled up with you the past three nights? Why do you think I didn’t like him? I don’t do this with all of my friends. It’s because I like you, dummy,” he said. 

“Did you really just call me a dummy while you confessed to me?” you asked.

Chan grimaced. “Yeah, force of habit. But I hope you’ll still accept it,” he said.

You didn’t think twice as you leapt up from your position and tossed your arms around his neck. He gasped, at first, but a smile quickly overtook his face as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you as closely as he could.

“Why are you crying?” he asked, feeling tears landing on his shirt.

“Shut up, I’m not crying,” you said. You quickly wiped at your eyes and pulled back so that you could look at him, and upon seeing his smile, you smiled too.

Chan closed the gap between you, his lips quickly finding rhythm with yours. He only pulled away to ask the question still lingering in the air.

“Can I take you on a date tomorrow night? I’ll even make the effort to plan it myself,” he asked, winking.

“It’s a deal.”


End file.
